


Stiles' Last Cure

by coldspot



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Friendship, M/M, Slash, sort of both
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldspot/pseuds/coldspot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott thinks a werewolf's bite is the only way Stiles will survive his condition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cure

The answer was obvious. Stiles was terminally ill, and there were only two options: watch him quickly and painfully deteriorate and die, or bite him. Scott knew it had to be done. He was thinking about it since they first discovered that Stiles might be sick with the same thing that killed his mother. There was no doubt in his mind – until he ran it by Stiles.

                “What if it doesn’t work?”

                “Well it’s worth a shot!” Scott said, taken aback by the question. He was sitting on Stiles’ hospital bed in the middle of the quiet night, having snuck in past the nurses.

                Stiles hesitated. His eyes darted up to Derek then back to Scott. “What if the bite kills me?”

                Scott hadn’t thought about that. He took a deep breath and said, “We have nothing to lose.” The implication was painful – Stiles could hear it in his voice.

                “No, what I _lose_ ,” Stiles said emphatically, “are my last few months with my friends and family.”

                Scott stared into his friend’s frightened eyes. He was right. “Maybe we can wait with it,” he said quietly. He turned to Derek and asked, “Can it wait?”

                Derek stood against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “I have no idea,” he said honestly.

                Scott turned back to Stiles. “What if we wait too long? What if we miss our opportunity to cure you?”

                “What if you kill me now?” Stiles fought back the tears. “Scott, what if you’re the one to kill me?”

                Scott closed his eyes. What if? Could he live with himself? Could he forever carry that burden? “I can’t just sit here and let you die.”

                “I can’t leave you like that,” Stiles said in a broken voice. “I’m just – I’m so weak, you know?” He let out a shaky breath and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “I’ve always been this pathetic little kid…”

                “No, Stiles, you’re the strongest person I know,” Scott insisted.

                Stiles shook his head. “Do you remember yourself? How hard it was? How much pain you went through? Do you really think that I could survive that?”

                “I _know_ you can.”

                Stiles slowly looked up at Derek. Derek looked away somewhere into the room.

                “Derek,” Scott started, “don’t you think Stiles would survive the bite? Don’t you think it would save his life?”

                “You never know.” Derek spoke matter-of-factly, but his mind flooded with images of Paige dying in his arms. He fought hard to keep his eyes from shining blue. “Some people – it doesn’t matter how strong they are – just don’t make it.” His sentence trailed off.

                Scott saw his pain, and he finally understood what they were both saying to him: the answer was not obvious. If Stiles died from Scott’s bite, Scott would never forgive himself. He’d live every day of his life with the guilt and the burden. He looked down at his hands and realized he was clutching the sheets on either side of Stiles’ bed. He released them slowly. “Maybe we can give the doctor a little longer,” he said. “A little longer… see what he says.”

                “Yeah.” Stiles nodded. He swallowed his tears and put on a brave face. “Let’s do that.”

                Scott felt overwhelmed. He leaned in and put his arms around Stiles’ shoulders and held him close. “I’m not going to let you die,” he whispered, but when he let go, he couldn’t meet Stiles’ eyes. He felt helpless. “Get some sleep, OK?” He said as he stood. “Text me if you need anything; I’ll be here right away.”

                “Yeah.” Stiles agreed emphatically.

                “I’ll be back before school, I’ll bring you those games…” His voice trailed off as he walked to the door. “...and the console.”

                “Yeah, thanks,” Stiles said.

                Scott walked out the door. Derek went to follow, but the hard stare from Stiles kept him with his hand on the handle. Stiles was clearly frightened, but his eyes were fixed and his jaw was set with resolve. Derek let the door slip shut behind Scott.

                “I can’t let him do it,” Stiles explained with determination.

                “No,” Derek agreed as he walked to the bed. “You can’t.” He understood. He sat on the bed next to Stiles and turned to his wolf form.

                Stiles flinched back, frightened as always of the rapid and feral way Derek turned, but he maintained his resolve. “Do it,” he said.

                Derek grabbed Stiles by his arms, and Stiles jumped back instinctively. “Are you sure?” Derek asked. His blue eyes shined with the reminder of how dangerous this was.

                “Yes, do it, do it now,” Stiles ordered.

                Derek leaned in fast and bit hard into Stiles’ shoulder. He held him down on the bed by his arms and the weight of his body.

                Stiles wanted to scream, but he was paralyzed with the shock and pain of the bite. He was breathing hard and fast, and his eyes were wide as he watched Scott run back into the room and freeze in the doorway. He saw the panic on Scott’s face, but his own shock was fading. The bite took only a few seconds, but it seemed so slow to Stiles. He felt all the small movements of Derek’s body over him, his chest pressing him into the bed, his hands holding him steady. Then there was something else – something safe, and something important – that passed between them.

                Derek carefully pulled his teeth out of Stiles’ skin and sat back on the bed. He wiped the blood from his mouth and let his face turn human as he retreated to the back of the room, giving Scott space to console his friend.

                “I couldn’t let you do it,” Stiles choked out as Scott grabbed him and pulled him into his arms. The wound on his shoulder was bleeding over his hospital gown and the bed, but he wasn’t paying attention to it. He only reached out for Scott and repeated, “I couldn’t,” into his shoulder.

                “I know,” Scott said. He held him tight. “It’s going to be OK, everything is going to be OK. You’re fine.”

                Stiles fell asleep in Scott’s arms. Derek sat in the small chair next to the bed and watched the sunrise through the window on the opposite wall. He thought about Paige.

                The bite healed quickly.


	2. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott teaches Stiles how to control his werewolf turns. [Scott/Stiles]

                “Kiss him,” said Lydia’s text message.

                “Great,” Scott murmured under his breath, “thanks Lydia.”

                Stiles stood with his shoulder pressed against the side of the bus, straining against his uncontrollable urge to turn werewolf. His fangs were breaking through his jaw, his claws were showing, and his eyes glowed bright yellow. “Scott,” he groaned for help.

It was Stiles’ first day back at school after being released from the hospital, classes were about to start, and there were people around: not a good time to have wolf issues. When Scott pointed this out, it only made Stiles more anxious, increased his heart rate and made the turn all the more difficult to control.

                Derek warned Scott about this the day after he bit Stiles. While Stiles sat through one test after another in front of an audience of amazed neurologists, Derek gave Scott the rundown on how to manage him. Besides himself, Scott was never responsible for a newly-turned werewolf before, and he listened carefully to all of Derek’s notes.

                “You remember what triggered your turns, don’t you?” Derek prompted.

                “Yeah, anger,” Scott said, “and Allison.”

                “Things that increased your heart rate,” Derek clarified. “Those things are going to be different for Stiles. He doesn’t get angry like you do, he gets anxious – really, really anxious.”

                “Anxiety will increase his heart rate. It’ll make him turn.”

                “Yeah, he’ll need to calm down if he wants to control it, like you did.”

                So when Stiles got anxious about controlling his turns at school that morning, the unfortunate consequence was the very thing he wanted to avoid. Scott noticed his claws and pulled him quickly between the empty buses. “Stiles, calm down,” he tried.

                Stiles was breathing fast. “I can’t,” he said, clutching his stomach.

                “You’re gonna have to, there’s tons of people around.”

                “Oh my God,” Stiles panicked.

                Scott kicked himself. He was never very good at this, and while Stiles was prone to anxiety, it was only recently that he started getting panic attacks, and Scott was not prepared. “What do I do?” He asked. “How do I calm you down?”

                Stiles shut his eyes in pain as his fangs protruded through his still-sensitive skin. “Lydia,” he managed.

                And that was Lydia’s advice. “Kiss him.” That’s probably not what Stiles meant when he asked for her, but there wasn’t exactly time to recruit her for help. Scott had serious doubts that this would work. It probably only worked for Lydia because Stiles had a crush on her since like elementary school. Although, Scott could think of more than a few occasions on which Stiles asked to kiss him, “Make out – you know, see what it’s like”, and while Scott never took it seriously, he had to admit that Stiles probably would’ve done it if he agreed.

                Scott steadied Stiles against the side of the bus with one strong palm on his shoulder and lifted his face with the other. When Stiles looked up at him, Scott let his eyes glow red in case he was listening more with his wolf senses than his human ones. “Don’t bite me,” he warned.

                Scott leaned in and placed a tentative kiss over Stiles’ lower lip. He instantly felt the tension ease from his friend’s body. He straightened Stiles against the side of the bus and kissed him more fully, letting his tongue slip over the retreating fangs. Stiles kissed back, locking their lips together as his tongue slid slowly over Scott’s. The kiss was deep but gentle, and Scott was surprised to find that it reminded him of his very near loss – of the fact that just a week before, Stiles was dying in a hospital bed. Scott dropped his hands to Stiles’ hips and pulled him up from the bus, pressing their bodies close against one another. He wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, holding him tightly like he did so many times in the hospital to reassure him, but also to reassure himself, to hold on to his friend against their impending separation.

               Stiles ran his fingers into Scott’s hair, the short bitten fingernails digging slightly into skin. His breaths were still uneven, but they slowed to a calmer pace. He listened with his wolf ears to their hearts beating: his own very fast at first, then gradually slowing in concert with Scott’s. Scott listened, too. Stiles always wanted this from Scott – not necessarily the sexuality of it, but the closeness and the honesty of how important they are to each other – but now there was something else, too. There was the fact that Scott’s eyes glowed red when he initiated the kiss, and that served as an electric reminder to Stiles that he was protected and simply _right_ to respond as fully as he wanted.

               Scott pulled away first, but he kept his palms pressed against Stiles’ back. Their lips felt warm against the morning chill. “Your eyes are back to normal,” he said quietly.

               Stiles kept his hand firmly on the back of Scott’s neck. “Good,” he said, but he didn’t sound like he meant it. His eyes suddenly glowed yellow again.

               “Are you…” Scott furrowed his eyebrows, “doing that on purpose?”

               Stiles smiled and placed a long kiss on Scott’s lips. “Dude, I think you taught me something,” he said as he pulled away. His eyes faded again.

               Scott huffed a proud laugh. “I did, didn’t I?”

               As Scott plopped down into his seat in first period, he looked at his phone to find an unread text message from Lydia. “Did it work?”


End file.
